The Inquisition (Summoner, #2)(67)

Cress shrugged and laid the quiver back down.

‘Still plenty left, but let’s be careful. Orcs don’t use arrows, but if they find one on the ground they’ll know we’re out here.’

Sariel and Lysander, who had been patrolling around the camp, returned and lay behind the fire, their broad backs making a comfortable pillow for the others. In fact, Fletcher saw that all but one demon had returned, with Tosk settling on Cress’s navel, curled up like a dog.

Fletcher strapped his scrying glass to his eye, so he could see where Athena was, her view appearing as a pink-tinged overlay of half his vision.

Athena was standing vigil on a high branch, her owlish eyes able to see through the orange sunset as clear as day. Every few seconds she swivelled her head, like a sentinel standing guard. Fletcher urged the Gryphowl to come down with a thought, but sensed her desire to remain.

‘Well, looks like we don’t need to arrange a night-watch schedule,’ Fletcher said. ‘Athena intends to stay there all night.’

‘Good,’ Sylva yawned. ‘I don’t think I’d be able to keep my eyes open.’

They lay there in comfortable silence, allowing the campfire’s heat to seep the ache from their muscles. The night sounds of the jungle had already begun, with the chirps of crickets adding a dull buzz to the quiet, interspersed with the occasional call of nocturnal birds. It was strangely soothing, reminding Fletcher of the sounds of Pelt’s forests.

Jeffrey, who had been silent for most of the journey, spoke up for the first time that night.

‘I don’t know why I’m here,’ he sobbed, the fear in his voice cutting through the cosy crackle of their campfire. ‘All I have is the short sword Uhtred gave me. I’m only any good at biology and botany – we’re not going to run into any dead demons out here and when the raid begins, dissecting one will be the last thing on my mind.’

‘I’d take you as a guide over any of the others,’ Sylva said generously. ‘We’re barely hungry with all the fruit and vegetables you gathered as we were hiking, and we’ve refilled our water-flasks from those vines all day. We don’t need a navigator with that great big pyramid marking the way, and we have a map of their camp. Just make sure you hang back when the fighting starts and we’ll deal with the orcs.’

‘Thanks,’ Jeffrey muttered, but it was obvious he was unconvinced. He rolled away with his back to them, and Fletcher thought he caught a glimmer of a tear on the lad’s cheek, reflected by the firelight. Then the glimmer flashed again, and he realised it had appeared in the overlay of his scrying crystal.

‘What the hell is that?’ Fletcher muttered.

A fire had been lit, only a few hundred metres away, right on the forest trail. For a moment he’d thought Athena had been looking down at them, so close by was the light.

He removed his eyeglass and the others leaned in, squinting at the coin-sized crystal.

‘Orcs?’ Jeffrey asked, his voice trembling.

‘I’ll send Athena closer,’ Fletcher said, conveying his orders to Athena with a flash of intent.

Soon, the crystal showed the rushing canopy below, as the Gryphowl glided over the treetops. It took but a few seconds for her to reach the place, and she landed with feline grace on a broad branch. It creaked under her weight – Fletcher could hear all that she did in his mind. He winced at the noise, but the figures below seemed not to react.

It was too far up to see their faces, but the monstrous creature standing watch beside them left no doubt as to who they were.

Isadora’s team were following them.

‘What are they doing here?’ Sylva hissed. ‘They’re supposed to be on the other side of the river!’

‘I don’t know, but they’re up to no good,’ Othello whispered. ‘Thing is, they can’t do anything with Lysander watching. Not unless they attack in the dark …’

They paused for a moment, contemplating his words.

‘Maybe they got lost, or decided against crossing the river,’ Cress suggested.

‘You don’t know them,’ Fletcher said. ‘They’re trying to sabotage us to prove that a team with dwarves and elves doesn’t work. They could take us out with spells in the darkness. It would look like orc shamans had ambushed us.’

‘That’s incentive enough for them to ambush us,’ Sylva said. ‘Not that they need a good reason. They hate us enough as it is.’

Fletcher sat up, looking out into the gloom around their camp.

‘We need to move at first light, put as much distance between us and them as possible. Athena will keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t know we’re so close.’

He looked at his team’s bright fire, then began etching the ice spell in the air. With a pulse of mana, a stream of frost crystals enveloped the wood, casting the camp in pitch darkness.

‘Get some rest,’ Fletcher sighed, settling down against Lysander’s soft underbelly. ‘It might be the last we have for a while.’

As the others pulled blankets from their packs, Othello wriggled in beside him.

‘Trust you to hog Lysander as a pillow,’ Othello whispered. ‘Move over.’

Fletcher shuffled to the side and Othello stretched out beside him. It was comforting to have the dwarf there.

‘Hey,’ Othello said suddenly. ‘What did you end up doing with that gremlin?’